Love and Lances
by Seasaltandsweetpeas
Summary: No one ever understood how a healer, someone who spent their life helping people, could be so detached, and yet Lukas managed. No one ever understood how a knight, someone who had seen the worst that humanity had to offer, could be so cheerful, and yet Mathias managed. The two have found that there is often commonality in irregularity, and they have found each other.
1. Comfrey and Horse Hooves

There was was a heavy mist hanging over the fjord that morning. Thick and dewy and a bit too much like rain for Lukas's liking. It fell onto him, dusting his cloak as he waited outside of Berwald's house.

Eventually a hand opened the door, or at least most of a hand. The fingers were nothing but stubs anymore, but this was normal, Lukas was used to this, and soon enough the hands came with a face. Tall, with dark blue eyes and a thatch of blond hair. He would have been handsome if it wasn't for his illness.

As he entered the house Lukas could almost hear the whispers starting up again. He knew what the villagers thought, he knew they trusted him less because of it, but it had never stopped any of them from coming to him in their times of need, and so he kept going. As far as he was concerned, Berwald, sweet and soft spoken, was the last man on the planet to be in league with the devil. The fact that he had leprosy certainly didn't change that.

He sat down in a chair across from Berwald and began to pull ingredients out of his basket. He ground some oatmeal in his mortar and pestle and mixed the now powdery oats with comfrey and hot water. The resulting concoction was slimy and the type of thing most people would rather not touch. Lukas smeared it over the lesions on Berwald's skin before getting up to wash his hands.

"Now let that sit for a bit,"

"I know. Thank you."

"I'm just doing my job Berwald."

...

There was quite the commotion going on in the village and as Lukas made his way out of Berwald's shack he couldn't help but be disturbed by it.

As much as he hated the racket he figured he should know what was going on. He was always being asked about one event or another by his patients, and so, heaving a heavy sigh, he wandered over to where the noise was coming from.

There in the half dirt, half cobblestone village square stood a cluster of horses, and atop of them a cluster of men in ridiculously heavy metal armor. Lukas gave them the acknowledgement of a raised brow, but he simply couldn't bring himself to be interested. It was probably some announcement from the king. It didn't effect him. There was no point in being here.

As he turned to walk down the bluff a loud clank hit the ground. He pushed forward, ignoring it, but the sound of metal being shaken against itself only intensified as he went. Suddenly there was a grip on his arm and he spun around with a glare.

The man before him was young, no doubt only a few years older than Lukas himself. His hair was preposterous, sticking up to an unbelievable height and his eyes held too much delight for someone who fought in wars.

Lukas jerked his hand away and addressed the man with a hiss, "what do you want?"

The man grinned as his arms fell back to his sides, "I'm very sorry, it's just I saw you in the village and I wanted to tell you how pretty your eyes are."

Lukas scoffed, was this really necessary? He needed to get home, it was early and his brother would be waking up soon, "Yes, I'm sure they're lovely, now why don't you go back to your friends and play with your pet horsie."

The man gave a pathetic, dog like frown, "But-"

"Just let me be will you? I'm busy," and with that Lukas strutted off in a huff.

 **AN: So I'm starting a new story! I'll try to update regularly, but I haven't written this much in a while so forgive me if I'm not supper on top of things. I have no darn clue where this story is going, so suggestions are a big help! Okay, I hope you like it~**

 **I don't own Hetalia**


	2. Conversational Porridge

Lukas pulled the door shut behind him just as Emil was tumbling out of bed.

The younger boy glanced up at him and yawned, "Why are you so irritated?"

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. Why?"

Lukas sighed. He sometimes wished that his brother wasn't so good at reading him, no one else in the village would ever have noticed his current mood. "There was a group of knights in the village square, one of them started pestering me."

Emil got up and moved over to the hearth, scooping up a bowl of porridge from the pot Lukas had left to cool. "Oh, what did he say?"

"He said my eyes were pretty."

"Why is that such a bad thing?" his brother garbled, mouth full of food.

"It's annoying!"

"It's a compliment."

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lukas turned to open it with a small tut. The intruder, as Lukas would like to think of him, was the same young, wild haired man who had stopped him on his way home.

He snarled, "What do you want?"

The man bounced on his heels, his armor thumping the dirt and tinkling like wind chimes as he moved, "You left! But I never caught your name! Mines Mathias!What's yours?"

His voice was distastefully loud. It was too early in the morning for this.

"Why should a king's knight such as yourself ask for a healer's name?"

"Because I want to know it!" he shouted, "and I refuse to give up! If I can win wars than I can learn your name!"

Lukas shook his head, "you'll be waiting quite a while then," he stated, beginning to close the door.

Befor he could complete his task Emil came and wedged his foot between the door and the door frame. He nudged the door open with his foot and stepped outside, the skirt of his nightgown flapping about his slight frame in the early morning breeze and a bowl of steaming porridge teetering on his palm.

"Is this the knight you were talking about?" He asked, directing the question a Lukas. Then before the question could be answered he turned to Mathias, "His name is Lukas, mines Emil. Your cavalry came in this morning didn't it? You must be hungry, come in and have some porridge with us. I'm sure there's enough."

Lukas glowered at his brother, and begrudgingly let the knight inside before pulling Emil just outside the door so they couldn't be heard, "Why would you do that? You don't even know him."

Emil gave a small smirk, "No, I don't, but he makes you angry and I think it's funny."

"Insolent child!"

"I'm not a child anymore!"

"Of course you are. Now go inside and be a good host to our guest seeing as you're so insistent on letting him into the house."

Emil huffed and went back into their cottage with Lukas trailing him closely.

Once inside they found Mathias tugging and sniffing at the many bundles of dry plant that hung from the rafters.

"Leave those alone," Lukas scolded.

Mathias dropped the bundle he was playing with and gave the floor a guilty look, "Okay, but um… what are those things?"

"They're herbs," Lukas snapped, "You know you really shouldn't grab at something until you know what it is, and didn't you mother ever tell you not to touch other people's things?"

"Sorry they just smell really nice."

Emil broke off the impending scolding by holding up a bowl of warm, goopy meal.

"Here, eat this," he said, sitting back down by the hearth and patting the place beside him, "sit down."

Mathias did as he was told, taking the bowl and scarfing down its contents. Lukas only watched with exasperation, deciding that this day could simply not be good anymore.

 **AN: mmmm... I don't like this chapter too much but I hope you like it anyways. I know it's a lot of dialog, I'm sorry.**

 **Reviews are appreciated! Fell free to give me ideas on where the story should go, I have a vague notion of what I want to do with this but nothing is set in stone until I write it!**

 **I don't own Hetalia**


	3. Consequences of War Time

Mathias stayed much longer than Lukas would have liked him too. He ate his bowl of porridge, then he ate another bowl when Emil offered it, then he had a lengthy conversation with Emil over nothing in particular and he finished off his prolonged stay by demanding a lecture on the usage of every herb that hung from the ceiling. Admittedly Lukas hadn't minded that last part so much, he had always enjoyed discussing the different uses of plants, but that didn't stop him from sighing in relief as soon as the exuberant knight left.

It did take him long to start going with his rounds once his unwanted guest was out of the way. Three farming accidents, Fru Hummel had given herself a bad burn while cooking and needed it looked at, Arly Landvik had gotten terribly scraped up when falling from a tree, and so on.

At about an hour before sunset Lukas found himself at the door of the Baardson residence. He gave a tired knock and waited just long enough to be greeted by a scraggly looking bunch of children. They stared at him, the younger ones with drooly fingers clasping at their mouths and the older ones trying in vain to brush the dust off of their siblings faces, only to scatter when a largely pregnant woman came tottering into view. She gave a meek smile and invited Lukas in.

"Thank you for coming," she said, leading Lukas over to a small bed in the corner of the room, "I'm so worried, about Tove, he's sick, and I can't for the life of me figure out what's wrong."

Lukas leaned over the toddler, picking him up gently and checking him over. Once he had given the boy a thorough inspection, he turned back to the anxious mother beside him.

"He seems malnourished, has he been eating enough?"

Fru Baardson gave a nervous giggle, "Well you see, I've been giving him as much as I can, but with the cavalry's coming through the village so often now food gotten a lot more expensive, you must have noticed," Lukas nodded as she continued, "and it hasn't been the best year for crops either so we're trying to save as much as we can for the winter. You must understand Herr Bondevik, I'm feeding him the best I can, but there's all the other children too, and I can't very well let them go hungry either."

Lukas nodded solemnly at the little boy in front of him, "Well he's not going to get better without eating more, stop by my cottage tomorrow, I'll let my brother know you're coming, he can give you some food to help with things."

"Oh no Herr Bondevik you shouldn't, he'll make it through on his own, we'll manage."

Lukas gave the woman in front of him a stern glare," I came here to help and that's exactly what I intend to do. Besides, I'm sure my brother and I have something extra, there's only the two of us to feed at my house and you have a lot more mouths here. It's not your fault that the war with Sweden is bringing so many cavalry's through, it's the least I can do really."

Fru Baardson nodded her head and thanked him profusely before letting him leave.

...

Mathias' cavalry started saddling up to leave early the next morning.

The clank of armor and the clomp of hooves could be heard all through the village and Lukas found it quite distracting. He clenched his jaw in irritation while he tended to Berwald, thinking of all the harm those racket making knights were causing his youngest patient and the village in general.

"Is everything alright?" Berwald asked timidly.

"Everything's fine," said Lukas, "I just can't wait for this damn war to be over."

Berwald nodded and let him finish his work.

...

As Lukas began heading down the hill to his home the unmistakable clank of armor came running up behind him. There was no guarantee that said armor belonged to Mathias, but there was a very strong chance, and so Lukas turned around with a heavy sigh and did his best to appear lackadaisical.

Sure enough, there was Mathias with an unkempt grin and his horse's reins dangling between his fingers.

"What do you want?" Lukas grumbled, "Can't you see I'm trying to get home?"

Mathias gave a chuckle, "I just wanted to say goodbye is all, we're heading out in a few hours. So bye! I'll miss you!"

"Miss me? you don't even know me," Lukas hissed, "Just leave, and while you're at it, tell that damn king of yours to stop sending knights through my village. You cause nothing but trouble."

Lukas couldn't help but be shocked at his little outburst. Maybe he didn't like Mathias a great deal, but he knew a knight like him didn't have the power to change things with the king. He blamed his emotions entirely really. After his visit to Tove Baardson he had been stewing with thoughts on how the war was affecting his fellow villagers. How many other families were going hungry because this age old tiff with Sweden? There was no way to know, but none of that was Mathias' fault. Even if the man was intrusive and annoying Lukas had a hard time imaging he would willingly hurt his own countrymen.

"I… I'm sorry, I wish I could, but I don't know how… I'm sorry."

Lukas was brought out of his thoughts only to quickly be taken aback by the man in front of him. He looked truly guilty, disappointed even, and Lukas was almost brought to feel sorry for him.

"I didn't know we cause you trouble," Mathias continued to murmur, clearly distraught at the thought of it, "I'm sorry."

Unfortunately the sympathy Lukas was beginning to feel for Mathias didn't dissuade his natural cynicism. So Lukas decided that, despite the fact that Mathias clearly had a big heart he really shouldn't think too kindly of him, because anyone so...so _new_ was bound to die like a bug on the battlefield. If Lukas started to like him might pity the poor thing once he was dead, and honestly Lukas didn't have time for that sort of nonsense.

So Lukas looked the other man in the eyes with what is not entirely a glare and gave a spiteful. tut.

"Well that's a shame isn't it. Goodbye Mathias."

Lukas turned around and walked down the hillside. He did not expect to see Mathias again.

 **AN: Oh my goodness! I'm sorry this is so late, I was busy, and then I had writers block, and then I was lazy oh dear! But I think this story is on track now so that's a good thing. And don't worry, that's certainly not the end.**

 **Comments are welcomed and appreciated~**

 **Hetalia doesn't belong to me**


	4. The Patient

**Warning: There's a relatively graphic surgery in this chapter,so if that will make you uncomfortable please don't read this (if you're uncomfortable reading this but still want to follow the story you can ether pm me here on or send me an ask at my tumblr aphnorducks, and I'll happily fill you in on what happened)**

* * *

Scandinavia was on the fringes of autumn before the sound of horse hooves filled the village again. You could almost hear the collective sigh of irritation among the villagers as it grew closer, the idea of another obnoxious army's passing through was aggravating.

It was a market day, and Lukas was out buying tallow candles when a pair of stallions appeared on the broken cobblestone of the village square. One dragging a wooden cart, and the other free of anything but a rider.

The men on the horse's backs were nothing special. They were well dressed like anyone employed by the king would be, but there was an oddity about them, mostly in their small number. This wasn't an army, this was something else entirely and the people at the market couldn't help but eye them with suspicion.

Lukas was just going back to his business when the larger of the two men swung down from his horse, puffed up his chest and began to bellow.

"WHERE'S THE HEALER."

The shear volume of his voice was quite startling and you could hear the commotion as people gasped and stumbled about in shock. Lukas only blinked a little before putting his candles in his basket and turning to face the man.

"That would be me. Why?"

The man jerked his thumb towards the cart and said in a much more approachable volume, "he insisted that we bring him to you."

Lukas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, he couldn't think of anyone outside the village who would ask for him. But nonetheless he wandered over to the cart, reminding himself that this was a war wound and preparing himself for the worst.

Peering into the cart he found, to his surprise, a pitiful looking Mathias. Hi clothes were dirty, his hair looked disheveled and knotted, he had bruises all over from where the cart had jostled him. Most noticeably, he had loose dirt and blood-caked bandages hanging from one of his legs. The blood didn't seem to be contained to the bandages ether, there were brownish red splotches on the sides and bottom of the cart and his trousers were a wet crimson color.

Mathias clutched at the wound, making little moans and mumbles of pain. Lukas felt dismal just looking at him.

He was about to reach out and try to get Mathias' attention when the smaller of the two strangers slid off his horse and traipsed over to them, swinging a hefty black bag at his side.

"Look, I don't expect you to deal with this," the man began, "but he wanted you, and I could use some help if you're willing to give me some."

Lukas gave the man in impatient glare, "if you didn't want me to treat him then why is he here?"

The man bounced on the balls of his feet and ran a nervous hand through his puff of blond hair, "I… I'm sorry. It's just everytime I tried to treat him he would start begging me not to. He would whine and cry, squirm until it was impossible to help him, he kept asking for you. Eventually I just gave in."

Lukas raised an eyebrow, "and they let a pushover like you onto the battlefield?"

The man puffed his chubby cheeks up in a pout and scrunched his nose in irritation, "I'm not trying to get into an argument okay? And I'm not here to hear a critique of my work skills. I'm here to work with you and I'd appreciate it if we could try to get along," he thrust his hand out towards Lukas, "I'm Tino, and would I correct in assuming that you're Lukas?"

Lukas took Tino's hand and gave it a brief shake, "yes you would be."

* * *

Lukas flung the door to his home with a bang.

"Emil! We have company!" he gasped.

Emil only starred as Lukas began to rearrange the house. Dragging their kitchen table

to the center of the room, and building a fire in the hearth. Just as he was starting to get a steady flame Tino's horse came trotting up to the door..

The sound of the cart's wheels followed the sounds of Tino's horse and Lukas scurried outside to helped carry Mathias indoors. They set him on the table with a soft thump and Mathias gave a whine of discomfort.

Tino sighed and put his hands on his hips, "do you have any elderberry oil?" Lukas nodded, "Would you put it over the fire for me please? I need it boiled."

Lukas did as he was asked, pouring a jug of elderberry oil into a pot before hanging it above the fire like he would with a stew. He strode back over to the table and looked expectantly at the surgeon.

Tino unlatched his bag and dug through the contents before extracting a long wand like tool with what looked like a screw on the end.

Lukas couldn't help but gawk at it, "what is that thing?"

"It's a bullet remover!" Tino exclaimed proudly, "I bet you can't really get things like this out in the here, huh?"

"No…" Lukas said, " but what's the point of it? Aren't we just going to cut off his leg anyways?"

Tino shook his head, "nope, that won't be necessary. Could you hold his legs down for me please? He tends to flail."

Lukas put his hands just above Mathias' knees before leaning down with a good half of his bodyweight and watched quietly as Tino unwrapped Mathias' soggy bandages, tossing them to the side. He shoved the Danish man's pants legs up a bit further before pushing the bullet remover into the festering wound.

Mathias began to shriek and cry. Flailing his arms so they smacked at the table, swung at the air, and hit Lukas' head and shoulders. Lukas growled with annoyance and turned his head towards his brother, who was in the corner of the room watching the whole ordeal with wide horrified eyes .

"Emil get over here and hold his arms down will you?"

Emil gave a slow nod and reluctantly shuffled over to the table, gripping his hands over Mathias' arms and letting his head hang down towards the floor .

Tino began to turn the bullet remover by its wing like handles, grinding into the soft metal of the bullet. Mathias wailed and sniveled and howled and wept as the procedure went on, filling the cottage with the sounds of agony and shaking in Lukas' grip.

"There," Tino said with triumph, yanking the bullet out of Mathias' leg and holding his surgical tool up so that the others in the room could see, " it's out! Now, could one of you please bring me a ladle?" Emil quickly obliged.

Once the ladle was in his hands Tino went over to the, now boiling, pot of elderberry oil and scooped some up. He teetered back to the table, making sure not to spill any and positioned himself above the hole in Mathias' leg before pouring oil into it.

Mathias let out a ghastly screech, and began convulsing painfully on the table. Lukas felt awful just watching it, he couldn't even imagine how excruciating that must be...but as long as it was part of the healing process right?

However Lukas was quickly distracted from his thoughts by a shout, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

It was Emil. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide with fear and anger. He was gripping the table and trembling slightly. He look like he might say something, but Tino cut him off, turning to the boy with a warm smile.

"Don't get too worked up now, I know it looks scary, but it's necessary, the heat from the oil cauterizes the wound, it keeps him from bleeding to death."

Emil, clearly stunned and troubled by this information, turned to his older brother for confirmation.

Lukas noded, "Yeah, I hear it also works as an anti-toxin, the metal in those bullets is poisonous you know."

Tino gave a serious nod, "Oh yes, that too. See young man, it's very important that we do this," he turned back to Lukas, "I need to go back and take care of all the other wounded soldiers now. Keep that oil in overnight, I'll be back to check on him in the morning. Oh… I… I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed he would be staying with you. We… we can take him back if you…"

Lukas shook his head, "we can take care of him, don't worry. You've got enough to deal with I'm sure."

Tino's face bloomed into a smile, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said, walking up and shaking Lukas' hand with vigor, "I know you'll take good care of him, but oh goodness I really do have to go now, I'm sorry."

He jogged out the door, throwing a goodbye their way as he left.

Lukas sighed and shut the door. He took a blanket off of his bed and laid it over Mathias, wanting to make sure his patient was warm, and then he went to clean out the pot he had boiled the oil in.

He only heard a few soft whimpers from Mathias befor the Danish man fell asleep.

 **AN: I had a lot of fun doing research for this one! I did do my best to be accurate when writing this, but of course some things are gonna be off. Just a note to any other writers who might write a historical surgery, this method of cleaning bullet wounds is very specific to the 1500's and early 1600's (when this story is taking place) so if you're writing a similar surgery during a time period after the early 1600's I suggest that you go look up Ambroise Paré because he was the guy who kind of changed things up.**

 **I'm really sorry for how late this is, but unfortunately the next chapter will probably be even later. I'm starting school tomorrow so I really don't know when I'll have time to write again, I'm sorry. But hey! We met Finland this chapter so that was cool.**

 **Reviews are always appreciated!**

 **I don't own Hetalia**


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